


Solace

by AwfulGoodness



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Boys In Love, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Parabatai, Parabatai Feels, Pre-Canon, Pre-Tessa, Sick Jem Carstairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 13:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20310016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwfulGoodness/pseuds/AwfulGoodness
Summary: Will only wants Jem to be safe, but he soon learns that perhaps listening to Jem is better than hurting him.Or, Jem takes a leaf from Will's book and decides to be impulsive.





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All rights regarding the Shadowhunters Saga go to Cassandra Clare

_"James! Look at me!"_ It was the most infuriated Will had ever been with his _parabatai_, though he knew it was derived from a deep sense of desperation running in his veins. Jem wasn't thinking reasonably or clearly, just stubbornly, only caring of his pride as a Shadowhunter and not of his own life.

Jem, stood by his bed, was swaying slightly but still refusing to admit he didn't feel well, despite the evidence written all across him. His face was starkly pale and his eyelids, half-lidded from exhaustion, looked bruised in the low light. Neither of them had taken their witchlights out so the only light source was the moon, its light seeping through the translucent curtains and spilling across Jem's tired face. Will hated seeing him like this, seeing what the drug had reduced his _parabatai_ to and just wanting to fix it even though he knew that there was no possible way to get rid of the _yin fen_ without killing Jem.

As Will studied him, Jem's head snapped up so that he was looking at him, glaring uncharacteristically.

"William, I am _alright_ and I can take care of myself!" he hissed, his silver eyes now bright with anger. Will wished that they weren't arguing and that Jem would just see what he meant, as Will's only intention was to prevent his _parabatai_ from having an attack.

When Jem had an attack, Will's heart would feel as if it were exploding, making him want to throw up with panic and tortured misery. When Jem recovered, the despair was replaced by an innate sense of terror that haunted him every minute of every hour, chasing him wherever he went, concealed in the shadows of Jem's illness until Jem had an attack. Will longed to scream every time it happened.

"No, you are clearly _not_ well! I will not let you risk your life because of your stubborn pride! I will tell Charlotte that I am okay to go alone!" Will retorted, not caring that they were disrupting the peace of the Institute and that anybody could hear them. The sound of them having a serious argument was rarely heard anyway.

"I am not unwell which makes me perfectly capable of accompanying you tomorrow on this hunt that Charlotte assigned to you _and to me_." Jem's hands were clenched at his side, tight balls of white knuckles. Will was honestly surprised by Jem's anger, considering his natural disposition. This fury, this disobedience was supremely unlike him. But stubbornness wasn't.

"James, I just-" Will faltered, afraid to continue and make Jem think he didn't have faith in him.

"You just what?"

"I- I don't want you getting hurt tomorrow."

Jem rocked back on his heels, his eyes never leaving his face as defiance seemed to rise up within him.

"_William_, tell me honestly, do you think I am strong enough to sustain myself?"

Will didn't want to reply, because knew that Jem would know if he was lying, and that would break his precious heart. If he told Jem, he might not love him anymore and they might not have their stolen moments in the dark when no one was watching them. To everyone else, their relationship was purely platonic, but that was a far cry from the truth.

"Jem, it is not about your-" he attempted to alleviate his true feelings but Jem cut him off, his voice much quieter and more associated with himself, but the terrible questioning tone still present. Will could tell how much this meant to him, and the feeling of self-loathing surged up inside of him once more.

"William, tell me." Jem whispered, his voice cracking.

Will took a deep breath, despising the silence of the room, yet despising himself for being the one to break it with the one dreadful word.

"No."

The word hit Jem like a punch to the face and he flinched, recoiling in shock and hurt. A beautiful strand of bright silver hair fell into his eyes as he looked back up at his parabatai with what seemed like betrayal dwelling there. Will couldn't stand seeing it there.

He made to move forwards, to take it all back and hold his lover as if there was nothing else in the world but the two of them- but Jem flinched away from his touch and darted to the door, throwing it wide open and fleeing the room.

The sudden silence, now created by his solitude, froze Will in place as he breathed heavily, raising his hands to cover his face. He wanted to cry at what he'd done, driving away the person he loved most in the world, to who knows where. Almost involuntarily, his mind kept replaying the image of Jem looking at him before hurrying from the room, his expression wounded and questioning. But questioning what? Questioning their relationship, how he could have trusted Will, the importance of his own life? Will prayed that it was none of these things, albeit he knew that they were quite likely.

Nearly screaming in despair, Will sprinted from the room to find his _parabatai._

**\-------------------**

Jem wasn't sure what he was doing, but he was sure that if it brought him away from Will, then he would be fine. The feeling of sickness and hurt ran deep in his veins as he strode away from the Institute briskly, almost tripping in his haste. Though he had refused to tell Will and be denied the chance to go on the hunt tomorrow, he did feel ill, more than usual, and wanted nothing more than to curl up with Will and fall into a deep slumber. Despite their recent argument, Jem still found his heart craving Will's company, but his head, always practical, kept him walking away.

The truth was, Jem wasn't angry at Will, but more at himself. If their roles were reversed, he would have done the same thing, going as far as begging to get Will to see what he meant, to save him from himself. Jem wouldn't have enough faith in him to keep himself standing, either.

But their roles weren't reversed.

It still stung, though, to know that Will didn't think he could hold on alone, that he wasn't strong enough or able enough. Jem had always tried to show them that he was strong, but when his addiction was at its worse, he would be stripped of his pride, strength and dignity as he coughed up blood and passed out. Jem wished it weren't true, but he couldn't lie to himself.

He was weak, and that's all it was.

He still couldn't believe what he was doing now though, marching away from his home, with no coat, no stele or any weapons. He just knew that Will would be searching for him and if Jem went somewhere he never went, then the chance of Will finding him was lower. Jem knew that he should turn back, apologise to Will, let himself rest and get better, but a strange, alien feeling of defiance drove him forwards, towards the inn known as _The Devil Tavern._

Hesitating momentarily at the door, Jem shook his head and swallowed hard, pushing the heavy, wooden door open and stepping inside warily. He was instantly met with the foul scent of alcohol clinging to every one inside and stealing the fresh air away. Jem almost gagged but he managed to hold back, especially as everyone turned to look at him, some glaring and others looking afraid. He realised that they were all Downworlders, not pleased with the sudden appearance of one of the angel-blessed warriors they despised so.

Suddenly regretting everything, Jem swallowed once again and surged on, determined to be here whether they liked it or not. Without another look around at the gaping Downworlders, he took a seat at the bar, trying not to collapse with exhaustion. As soon as he was sat down, the proprietor of the inn, a werewolf, sauntered over to him, his expression distrusting and nervous.

"A Nephilim, in my inn." His voice was thick and gruff, making it hard for Jem to understand what he was saying, "Not what I expected to see at 1 in the morning."

Jem looked down, questioning what he was even doing here, what he planned to do now. He had never been drunk before, barely even had alcohol before, for his addiction sent him spiralling away from anything else addictive. But right now, he didn't want to think, just wanted to stop feeling this dreadful hopelessness that was paired with his waning life, the chord tethering him to this earth loosening imperceptibly every day.

"I am not here on Shadowhunter business, just here to- to drink." He was disgusted at himself but he just wanted everything to stop, to let him be free, if only for a moment, one blissful moment of liberation.

"You don't look like the type to drink." the werewolf eyed him up, frowning at his severely thin frame, odd silvery hair and the unnatural pallor of his skin. Jem wished that he could change all of these things so strongly, despite Will's constant murmurs that he was beautiful, because he knew he was not.

"I just want to drink, sir, and I'm sure that you wouldn't refuse business. I am not threatening any of your customers, am I?" Jem pointed out, surprising himself at his boldness.

"'Sir', that's a new one." the werewolf barked out a laugh, "No, I guess not. Fine, stay."

Jem was more than happy to oblige, and not an hour later, after several drinks, his vision was swimming and his head hurt and everything was beginning to blur together. To be truthful, Jem had forced the drinks down his throat, not wanting any of them, but just wanting to be lost in drunkenness until he couldn't remember anything.

It was a strange feeling, being drunk, and not a particularly pleasant one after all of that. Suddenly wishing to be at home with Will, Jem staggered away from the bar, nearly tripping over his own feet. But then he realised how far from home he was, and he crumpled back down again and rested his head on the surface tiredly, the sound of Will's voice drowning out the rest of the senseless noises.

Wait, was Will actually here?

Jem cracked his eyes open to catch a glimpse of striking sapphire eyes staring right at him, but then his head felt heavy again and he collapsed down once more.

**\-------------------**

Will had checked the music room, the library, the drawing room and even Jem's room again just to be sure. So far, he hadn't found Jem at all, and he was growing increasingly panicked. Where could he possible have gone that Will wouldn't find him?

He missed Jem like an ache in his heart, memories of their quarrel flashing across his mind over and over again, their words bouncing off the walls harshly. He just wanted Jem here with him forever, away from anything that could hurt him.

A sudden, cold feeling of panic set in his stomach as an alarming thought spread over him; what if Jem had gone patrolling, without Will, and he hadn't brought weapons? The thought was too painful for Will to handle, so he shut it down quickly, refusing to believe it.

Deciding that there was no other way, Will raced back to Jem's room, heart in his mouth, and snatched up Jem's silver box of the drug. He knew that it was perfect for Will to locate him with because it practically reeked of Jem, becoming a part of him even if he didn't want it to be. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Will waited for the image to surface, any image, anything to point him to his Shadowhunter.

A few moments later, a picture swam to the surface of his mind, not quite clear for Will to make out until he thought of only Jem. His eyes flew wide open in shock. He had been to that place before, once or twice, but he never imagined that Jem would go there. Jem despised places like that, constantly reminding him of his illness and addiction, and he hadn't ever been drunk before, either. Why would Jem go there?

But of course, Jem would go there for the one thing Will craved, and only in Jem's presence did he forget: freedom. The feeling of having nothing to worry about, the solace that the drink brought him, even if he regretted it in the morning. Jem must be really desperate and just plain fed up if he went there for comfort. Will had to get him out of there, before he did something they couldn't change. What if a Downworlder decided they could take Jem and attacked him when he was at his weakest? What if Jem had an attack and Will wasn't there to help him and he died all alone in a bar, surrounded by unfamiliar faces who only wanted to hurt him?

No, Will couldn't think like that.

Deciding to go by foot rather than wake Thomas and get the horses and carriage out, Will sprinted down the street, faster than he ever had before, his hair whipping across his face, a sword tucked into his belt haphazardly.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed- it could have been five minutes, or it could have been five hours, but eventually Will reached the Devil Tavern. The moon was still high in the sky, indicating that he had reached the inn swiftly. He had never been more glad to see the rotting sign, though he swore that if _anything_ happened to Jem inside it, he would take his blade and tear up the place and everyone in it until there was nothing left but roaring flames and pathetic piles of rubble.

Storming inside, deciding to hide his sword so that no one was spooked, his head snapped from side to side until he caught sight of bright silvery hair laid flat across the bar. Panic welled inside of him as he almost tripped over his own feet to reach his Jem, who still hadn't moved even as he called him.

Will reached him, lifting his face up tenderly so that he could examine him. Jem murmured slightly, his beautiful silver eyes ever so slightly open and blinking slowly as if it tired him out too much to keep his eyelids up. The strong smell of alcohol clung to him and Will just wished that he could take it away, take Jem away from everything.

"Oh Jem," he whispered, "this is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

Jem tried to respond, but his mouth seemed to be too heavy to move, and he just lolled in Will's arms. A wave of unbearable guilt washed over Will. He wasn't even sure that Jem knew who he was, or where he was.

"How much has he had?" he asked the proprietor quickly, lifting Jem to his feet with great care, supporting him as he stumbled.

The proprietor just showed him a bill, and Will tried not to blanch. He yanked some money from his pocket and shoved it onto the bar, not caring about he way he yelled after him. Will carried Jem out of the inn, pausing to kiss him on the forehead softly so that Jem would feel safe.

"This is all my fault." Will murmured again and this time Jem heard him and managed to reply, if weakly.

"Not-your fault-" he slurred, "my fault, all mine. Sorry."

"No, no, not your fault," Will hushed him, moving him away from the door. He cursed himself for not taking the carriage, but realised that there was nothing he could do about it now; they would have to walk home, even if it took all night.

They hadn't gone far when Jem stopped abruptly, his eyes widening slightly before he pulled away from Will, doubling over. Will instantly thought he was having an attack, his heart dropping into his stomach, but upon closer inspection, he realised Jem was being sick.

Managing not to gag by sheer force of will, Will held his lover, stroking his hair and wrapping his arms around him for support. _Stupid, stupid,_ Will berated himself, _all my fault._

_Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa._

A sudden screeching sound behind him made Will start, almost losing his grip on Jem, who also jumped belatedly before slumping down again. Will spun around to discover a carriage waiting for him, Thomas seated slightly awkwardly in the driver's seat, Balios and Xanthos whinnying softly. He could tell that they recognised him, wanting him to join them. Quite frankly, Will was baffled as to how they knew they were here.

"Thomas, how did you-" he began with wide eyes, but words failed him and he broke off with a stutter.

Thomas grinned lopsidedly, his gaze avoiding Jem, who had proceeded to slump against Will, looking terrible. It wasn't Jem he was avoiding exactly, it was what Jem had just produced, to phrase it delicately. Will felt a flare of indignation on his _parabatai's_ behalf; it was his first time drinking so he obviously wasn't acquainted with the feeling of sickness one felt afterwards. And besides, Jem was _really_ drunk. 

"Charlotte was still awake and she caught sight of Jem leaving out out of her window. She assumed he was just out for a walk but then you ran after him and she began to worry, so she sent me to follow you." Thomas explained. Will stood staring at him for a few moments, before asking warily,

"She didn't hear us talking, did she?"

Thomas shrugged, "I don't think so, but she didn't say."

Deciding that this was adequate, Will helped Jem over to the carriage, drawing him onto the seat beside him and pulling him close. Jem's head slid down until it rested in Will's lap, his eyes sliding shut, his breaths shallow. Will realised that he was asleep, and tried not to worry about how thin and pale he looked. All he had to do was get him home, and then he'd be okay. This Will was adamant of. Running his fingers through Jem's fine, silver hair, he kissed his mouth gently, even though he knew Jem was asleep. Jem smiled faintly, his lips curving up in pleasure and satisfaction.

Not long later, Will felt the carriage roll to a halt, hearing Thomas jump down and open the door for them. Lifting Jem up as not to wake him, Will carried him into the Institute, thanking Thomas profusely on his way. He tried not to think about how light Jem was, because that would only lead to further worrying, but it was painful to see how thin he had become.

Charlotte was waiting for them in the entryway, pacing up and down, biting her fingernails- unconsciously, Will suspected. He half-wondered why she was awake at this ungodly hour of the morning, but decided not to question it; after all, she was the reason he was able to get Jem home quickly and safely. Her head jerked up when she heard them, and she hurried over, her small face pinched and alarmed.

"Is he-" she began nervously, frowning.

"Asleep." Will finished, noting how Charlotte's shoulders relaxed, tension bleeding from her stance. Will felt the same relief she did.

"What happened? I saw you run after him, though I wasn't sure why."

"He was- upset, and I was worried so I followed him. Thomas found us, and Jem fell asleep in the carriage. He's rather drunk." Will didn't wish to delve into the details of why Jem was upset; that wasn't Charlotte's to know, and he could tell she knew that even as curiosity ate away at her.

"Well, you best take him to bed now, if he wishes to join you. Goodnight, Will." Charlotte bid him farewell, placing a hand on Jem's arm, smiling affectionately at him and then Will, before turning and exiting the room. Will also took his leave, carrying Jem to his room and laying him down onto the sheets.

Will, looking between the chair beside the bed, and to the bed itself, decided that the bed was the most comfortable option, and the one closest to Jem. He settled beside the Shadowhunter, pulling him close to his chest, smiling slightly at his healthy, even breaths. Will felt his eyelids dropping down, and before long he was fast asleep.

Hours later, probably around seven in the morning, judging by the slow dawn awaiting them outside the window, Will awoke to find Jem gazing at him sleepily, a smile playing with his lips. He seemed to have regained some sobriety in his sleep, and due to his Shadowhunter healing abilities. Will couldn't help but smile back.

"Will," Jem whispered, "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I didn't mean what I said, and I understand what you meant. I was just being stubborn, and drinking my problems away was certainly not a solution."

"No, Jem, I am sorry, for not having faith in you. You are strong, because every day you fight relentlessly. You are the strongest person I know, and you have nothing to apologise for. Just don't scare me like that again, please."

"I am afraid that there may be more plenty more scares in the future, scares that neither you nor I have control over." For a moment, Jem sounded as far away as the moon. "But for now, I am sorry for making you fearful, and I will not do that again."

"Sometimes I cannot believe that you are mine, Carstairs." Will only ever used Jem's surname if he was being playful, yet Jem knew this was an act as his words were utterly sincere. Jem rather felt the same way about Will. How could someone so perfect be his?

"I love you, William."

Will smiled. "I love you, James."

"Does this mean I can accompany you on the hunt tomorrow? Or today I should say."

"Of course you can, but only if you're well and feel that you are able to. I'm sorry I doubted you."

Jem smiled again, pressing a sweet kiss to Will's mouth, a silent thank you. Will returned it gladly, before pulling away and not being able to resist adding:

"But you're going to have one hell of a hangover."

**Author's Note:**

> I love these two more than anything :)
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you liked, please kudos and comment! :))


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